ode to sleep
by Calloniel
Summary: 'And I'll stay awake - cause the darks not taking prisoners tonight. What have I become? I'm sorry.' OC [manga spoilers]
1. Chapter 1

Toki Aibu died January 4th, 5:49 PM.

She was intelligent, having graduated from her class a semester early with straight A's. She was the type to take in stray animals and take a homeless man out for lunch. Her parents were well off with no lack of anything. The girl was spoiled considering her only child status. With multitudes of friends, one would assume that she lived the perfect life.

The girl wouldn't have said otherwise. But that didn't stop her from stepping out into heavy traffic.

They called it a hit and run to save face. In fact, that was what it must have been, they thought. Toki would be the last person to be suicidal.

The result of the 'accident' was a broken arm, fractured ribs, severe concussion, lacerations and road burn everywhere. It was survivable. She should have lived. However, she didn't. And nobody could think of any reason why. One minute she had been conscious, carefully transported into the ambulance that had arrived, the next she was seizing. A few seconds later and she flatlined. All attempts to revive her failed, and the mood in the ambulance was somber. A child, hardly eighteen, dead. Heads bowed.

But then -

A heartbeat.

So fragile, barely there.

Fluttering like a butterfly, a desperate attempt to _live_.

The ambulance continued its mad rush, now desperate to get the girl to the hospital, to stabilize her. They arrived without further incidents and the doctors and nurses set about fixing her up, wrapping all the open wounds and setting her the compound fracture. The parents had been called and notified and they paced in the waiting room, eager for news. The grapevine carried the news and it spread. Flowers were sent. Calls of condolences and well wishes made. The girl remained asleep in her bed. It was normal, good, even - if she was sleeping, that meant she was healing.

A week went by.

Then two.

They began to think that she wouldn't wake up.

And that theory would have been correct - Toki Aibu did not wake up.

_But I did_.


	2. Chapter 2

"_The greatest quintessence of a broken man isn't so much that he himself is broken—it's when everything else is breaking all around him, and all he could do is watch._"

N.T.

* * *

><p>"<em>We're going to keep her here for observation for a few days… we can't find anything abnormal from her CAT scan. The muteness may be from some sort of shock. It could also be what is causing the abnormal behavior, the distance."<em>

I stared at the hands, tilting them one way and the other. It was slightly awkward with one of my arms being in a cast, but I managed. They were small, but the fingers slim and fragile, nails painted blue black. There was some new pink flesh from the road burn of the accident, but otherwise the skin was unmarred. I wiggled my toes experimentally and contemplated the shape that I was now in. The girl was slightly taller than I am - _was?_ - but less fit. I would bet that she was the frail type who ate like a bird, if this was how skinny she normally was. Would I adopt her same eating habits?

"_It's like she doesn't even recognize us!"_ The feminine voice was a hiss of despair. "_You need to fix this! You need to fix her!"_

"_Please, ma'am…"_

"_Don't you '_ma'am' _me! Don't you dare! You said she was fine. She is most definitely _not _fine!_

"_Unless she talks to us, we can't discern if she is experiencing some form of amnesia from her concussion, which is normal and tends to fade, or if her silence is her choice. I'm sorry, but it takes time."_

The hair… it was an intriguing shade of black, perhaps a very dark brown, a slight sheen of red when I spread the strands out on my white hospital gown. It was long as well, past my mid back was my guess. I wouldn't know until I stood. I had always wondered what I would look like with dark hair, different from my usual dirt blonde. Even long hair had been something foreign to me. This length was unimaginable, let alone capable of being healthy if I had my own hair. But the strands were soft to the touch and did not appear strangely or ratted.

"_What if she never talks again? What do we do then?"_ This was another man, much calmer than the other two speakers.

There was a stuttering for a moment. "_Well, sir, If she continues to refuse speaking then I would suggest therapy. If it persists for longer than a month then I would say it is some sort of social anxiety, which the therapy can help with. Otherwise… there isn't much anybody can do."_

It was difficult to understand people sometimes - especially if they were all talking at once. It wasn't impossible though. Two people talking at the same time was incredibly difficult to comprehend. It took a bit of focus, translating it in my mind. I wasn't hardwired for japanese, after all. My theory was that the only reason I understood anything was because of Toki's brain. She grew up speaking, writing, reading japanese. That knowledge stayed behind while she herself had fled.

I was surprised though - she had a stunning amount of english knowledge as well, enough to hold a decent conversation, act questions, etc. I hadn't expected it, and it made the translation of words a bit easier. Had she studied it through school? Wasn't that a requirement in Japan?

"_Visiting hours are almost over. I would suggest saying goodbye now. We'll give you a call if there are any updates."_

Footsteps began to fade away, and I looked to the door just as it opened.

Toki's mother was a stunning woman, with traditional Asian features and black hair that framed her face. She was on the short side with delicate standing, as though a breeze could blow her over. She looked incredibly young. My guess would be in her late twenties, but her conservative style of dress seemed to contradict the youthfulness. A sweater and jeans matched with skechers. It made me curious about Toki's wardrobe of choice.

Her father was the visual foil of her mother, however, standing probably about six feet - _180 centimeters -_ with a thick build of muscle and a shock of blonde hair and blue eyes. Next to such a frail woman he seemed even more massive in jeans and a long sleeve. What surprised me was that he appeared english. American? European? I couldn't tell. Perhaps he was the reason Toki knew her english so well.

The woman approached and grasped my hand in a firm grip. No, she was not delicate, if the strength of her fingers and the determined look in her eyes were to say anything. "Don't worry about a thing, baby," she soothed, other other hand stroking my head. "You'll be out of here soon, alright? You just… you just focus on getting better, okay?"

I didn't respond.

The male came up beside her and patted my leg, causing me to shift uncomfortably. He seemed to notice and removed his hand, but still smiled at me with straight white teeth. "We'll come back to visit tomorrow, okay? Don't give the doctors any trouble." He didn't have any discernable accent, his japanese flawless. But then again, what did I know about what an accent would sound like in japanese?

They both looked at me with such expectations and I couldn't say a word. My throat felt thick and clogged as I stared at them, as they waited for their daughter to speak to them, to reassure them with words of kindness and a smile. I couldn't do that. I didn't want to.

After a moment of silence where they recognized that I would not respond the mother leaned forward to plant a feather soft kiss on my forehead. The man's smile turned strained and he put his arm around his wife and they left, at least a foot - _30 centimeters_ - of a height difference between them. When the door was shut with a soft click I used the edge of the bed sheet to wipe at my forehead.

A part of me felt bad. But the rest of me didn't care. The rest of me was numb and cold. They weren't _my_ parents. The thought was a black vine, entrapping my mind and sinking its thorns into the tissue. Perhaps they were related to this body, but their daughter didn't inhabit it anymore. It was mine now.

I didn't have it in me to be empathetic, though I could be. I could imagine all too well what they were going through, what they must be feeling, how it hurts.

I was preoccupied, however. It was so disconcerting - who was I? It was headache inducing, separating the pieces of me and the pieces that remained of Toki. It was like trying to build a wall of sand. As I fortified one section the other crumbled, letting out _her _memories and _her _thoughts and it was disgusting.

I didn't want this.

All I wanted was to _live_. To stay alive.

Toki had wanted to die.

But I didn't.

I fought _so hard_. So, so hard.

And I hated her - the girl who use to be here, in this body. I hated her with everything I had. Because she got what she wanted. Did I get what I wanted?

I wasn't even sure anymore. Who I was, who I was suppose to be.

It was so cold. It was suppose to be hot. Heat, life, warmth, where was it? All I felt was this block of ice sitting on my chest, numbing my body until I felt… nothing. Living. Was this my price for living? I pressed a hand to my chest as though I could feel it resting there, infecting me with its shivering mass, piercing my lungs and flooding me with nothingness. Was this living?

I was warm, wasn't I? I use to be.

I use to be.

I had always been imaginative, the creative child of the family. I wasn't, however, naive. This wasn't a dream, nor a vision. I could feel the ache of the broken bone and the sting of the torn skin and muscle, the itchiness of the sheets against my legs in contrast with the soft hospital gown.

I slid lower into the bed, ribs aching with the motion, staring up at the ceiling, counting the tiles and naming the cracks. How did I get here? I didn't know. I had been _so scared_. The darkness was all encompassing and suffocating, no better than the fire -

_firescreamingfallingscreamingpainithurtshurtshurts_

I rolled over, careful of my broken arm, tugging my blanket up and over my head. When a nurse came with my dinner I didn't move. When she pressed I continued to ignore her. I wondered if they would force feed me. But the nurse only sighed and left. I focused on sky barely visible outside of the window and wondered what phase the moon was in.

I wondered how long my arm would take to heal.

I wondered how Toki's parents met.

I wondered why I was in Japan rather than back home in the states.

I wondered who exploded the plane - No I didn't.

But I wondered about everything else. A tedious distraction. And for a while, it worked. Until I fell asleep, and then the dreams started again.

* * *

><p>I found him when I was wandering the hospital three days later.<p>

I would imagine that I wasn't suppose to be in the room - while unlocked, the boy beneath the oxygen mask seemed terribly hurt, possibly only just out of surgery. All sorts of machines beeped and murmured at me, a polite reminded that he was alive. He was probably on hourly check ups, I reasoned, as I looked at the charts by the foot of his bed.

He was in a single room, unlike the one I was staying at. There were two other people in my room, both female, both ridiculously _nosey_. Both inquiring after my muteness, curious as to my injuries. 'Why are you here? What did you do?' Each word made me tremble and slither beneath my covers, hands shakily covering my ears.

The chart clattered slightly as I set it back into place. I couldn't understand half of it anyway. The boy was cute in an awkward, bookish sort of way. There was a much handsomer lad in the room down the hall from her named Ryo. He had fallen from the roof of his house when he was trying to repair a leak. Ryo was a bit loud, however, and quickly became an annoyance when he realized it was a one sided conversation.

I leaned over him, peering at his face curiously, careful not to bump him with my cast which rested in a sling. I blamed the terrifying lack of feeling in my chest for my uncaring perusal of the injured boy. There was nothing else to do in this damn place as I had quickly found out. The nurses did not like me and provided terrible company. My roommates were atrocious. There was no reading material that captured my interest. All that was left to do was wander the halls and people watch. That is, when I was _allowed_ to wander the halls.

At the time, I had no idea who he was. Like I said, the chart told me nothing. Maybe I would have gotten a clue and gotten the hell out of dodge. My situation was shit enough as it was, I didn't need man-eaters as the cherry on top. As it was, when his exhausted panda eyes trembled open, I wanted to scream. Instead I choked on the sound as I had choked on every other word I tried to speak.

One eye was a terrible blood red. Instead of white the sclera was a midnight black. Red veins spread through the left side of his face, like some sort of infection.

I jerked backwards, stumbling on my feet and crashing to the ground on my butt. My ribs screamed in protest and my arm swung uselessly in its sling. The air escaped my lips in a gasp and I scrambled out of the room, letting the door swing shut hard behind me. I forced myself to walk once in the hall, to not shriek when someone bumped my shoulder, to not burst into tears when I crawled back into my bed and threw the covers over my head.

My roommates squawked indignantly that I had interrupted their conversation. I couldn't care less.

That eye…

No.

I shuddered and squeezed my eyes shut as though the image would vanish. The whole _idea_ of it was impossible -

I refused to believe it.

* * *

><p>I went to his room the next day, conscious of the nurses and doctors that would report me. If this was even <em>vaguely<em> what I thought it was then it would be in my best interest to avoid being seen around him. If it was even _him_ to begin with. Which meant there was so many other issues that I would need to be concerned with.

My new life was already in danger.

It pissed me off.

He was still asleep, the monitors on either side of him beeping calmly. I briskly walked back to the chart, picking it up in my free hand and began to scan, struggling with all the different characters. I eventually found his name, however, and had to resist throwing the board through the window. I wanted to rage. I wanted to set the entire room on fire.

Whatever God or entity was fucking with me, I hope they were happy with themselves.

I went back to my room and I crawled into bed. I pulled the covers over my face and for a while I laid there, quiet and soft, and I pretended that I was dead. This was a corpse. I never woke back up.

I almost wished that I hadn't.

* * *

><p>When I think of <em>Tokyo Ghoul<em>, there are two phrases that pop into my mind immediately and they sum up the series in its entirety. They don't appear in any significant order. But when I think of them in my head, I always imagine the fangirls and the fanboys screaming them righteously.

One - Kaneki Ken did nothing wrong.

Two - Fuck Uta but also _fuck Uta_.

The words spun around in my head as I perched in the chair beside his bed, knees drawn up so I could rest my chin on them. He was fast asleep, completely unaware of my presence. I wasn't even sure why I was there. Three days ago he had been moved into one of the shared rooms, his bed being rolled past my room with little fanfare. I had given a sour hiss and tugged my sheet back over my head, blocking out the world.

I wonder if I should feel thrilled. This is a dream come true for most fans. Then again, most people wouldn't want to live in a world where your best friend wants to eat you. Or maybe your neighbor. Ghouls look the same as humans, don't they? It just makes them a better predator.

I could die here. Again.

I deflated slightly as I gave a silent sigh, content to observe Kaneki with slightly narrowed eyes. I can recall as if it was yesterday, all the posts - tumblr post after tumblr post about how Uta was a hot mess and Kaneki never deserved anything bad ever. Theory after theory of how he was alive, he survived whatever Arima put him through, how Tsukiyama was suddenly _not_ the trash king and the prayers of a sequel. _Tokyo Ghoul_ was the only manga that I bothered to go and purchase. Every volume, carefully organized and placed in order on my bookshelf.

He really didn't deserve anything that happened to him. That _will_ happen to him. He just wanted to go on a bookstore date. He didn't want to be a ghoul. He didn't want to change. He just wanted to go on a date and it was completely fucked up. Then he had to go through a Jekyll and Hyde transformation as he battled with his morals and the hallucination of Rize and later Jason in his head. He was _tortured until his hair turned white_ all because of a guy with a freak monkey wrench complex.

And then he went insane.

And then he died.

He really didn't deserve any of it.

The boy shifted slightly and my eyes snapped to focus on his face. He was awake - large eyes staring at the ceiling in something akin to shock. His chest rose quickly as his breath quickened, and the machine began to follow, beeping increasing in sound and frequency. I barely had time to murmur a curse and crawl under his bed and out of sight before a couple nurses trotted in, their feet loud on the tile floor. They weren't as loud as their voices as they chatted to each other and then barking at Kaneki in some half-assed attempt to calm him down.

I could almost hear the moment they realized he was physically fine and was just having a bad dream. I wanted to smirk as their voices turned slightly disapproving. Kaneki, the poor soul that he is, apologized profusely in a raspy voice. Some malicious part of me wanted to swipe my leg out to trip the nurses as they departed with heavy sighs. That was some great patient treatment.

I lay there until the door clicked shut before slithering out from beneath the bed, wincing slightly as it stretched my arm. It was still in a sling, and would be for another two weeks or so. It was cumbersome and annoying, and don't even talk to me about the terrors of bathing. I popped back up and slithered back into my chair, turning to see Kaneki staring at me with wide and slightly frightened eyes.

He was sitting up now, his bed having been adjusted appropriately. He leaned against the pillows - he looked exhausted, large bags beneath his eyes. It was strange to me that after a moment of mutual staring he seemed to relax. He had some sort of recognition in his gaze, though I couldn't comprehend how. I blinked.

His smile was apologetic when it formed on his face. "Sorry," he said, though it took a minute to really translate it. That was mainly because I didn't expect his voice. It was a soft, gentle voice, not terribly deep, and held a tremble of nerves.

I tilted my head to the side, curious as to what on _earth_ he was apologizing for. That was, until I realized that this was exactly the type of person he was. The one who apologizes for everything. The one who will admit to being in the wrong when presented with confrontation. I put my chin on my knees again, eyes softening. Oh, how quickly he will change. I shook my head and shrugged, brushing off the apology.

He continued to eye me, and after a moment he asked, "What's your name?"

I felt no urge to speak. Not yet, anyway. I scooted my chair closer to his bedside so I could grab his hand to write the letters in his hand, only to pause.

My name?

What was my name?

Was I 'me' or was I 'Toki'? I almost pressed a hand against my head as a spike of pain ran through my brain. _I_ wasn't Toki. But this was Toki. This was obviously something I would need to think over, the boundary between my body and my mind. Was it even my mind? Would I call it my soul?

I eventually settled with Toki, if just for simplicities sake. I patiently drew the characters on his palm, ignoring his curious stare. When I finished I settled back in my chair and subconsciously wiped my finger on my hospital gown.

He stared at his hand for a moment before peering at me. "Toki?" I nodded my head and he gave me a smile. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Kaneki Ken."

I raised a brow and nodded my head knowingly. Course I knew his name. I was practically stalking him. I knew his future. It was amusing to watch his cheeks color as I continued to stare. He was a sensitive child, I would need to be careful. Didn't want to crush him or anything.

"Do you, ah," he started before he paused awkwardly. "Um, can you speak?"

Again, for simplicities sake, I shook my head no. He gave a nod of his own then and settled back against his bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Thank you," he said after a moment. He looked at me from the corner of his eye. "You've been the one visiting me, right?"

I nodded hesitantly after a moment. He should have been asleep.

His smile was so self-deprecating that I had to resist the urge to wrap him up in comfy blankets and make him hot chocolate. Do they even have hot chocolate here? "You're the only one," he murmured before his attention returned to the ceiling in quiet pondering.

For some strange, stupid reason, I couldn't stop smiling. It spread across my lips like a cancer and made my cheeks ache. For the first time since I had opened my eyes as somebody new, I felt a spark of something that wasn't _numb _or _cold_.

If this was _Tokyo Ghoul _then I needed to get the _hell_ out of Tokyo. I needed to get away from Kaneki Ken. Far away from Anteiku and Aogiri and the CCG. I wanted to live. _I wanted to live_.

But sitting here with Kaneki, I felt _warm_. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to leave. I watched the boy stare up at the ceiling. He really didn't deserve anything that happened to him. That _will_ happen to him. He just thanked a complete and total stranger for practically stalking him. He just wanted to go on a bookstore date. He didn't want to be a ghoul. He didn't want to change. He just wanted to go on a date and it was completely fucked up.

What was the hashtag? #ProtectKanekiKen2k14? Something like that.

I think I could get on board for that.

I stood and took his hand again, ignoring the way he flinched away from me, and started to write in his palm again. It took him a minute to get the message, but when he did I think all the blood rushed from his body to his cheeks. I managed a little chuckle before I left the room, waggling my fingers.

_Cute_, I thought as I headed back to my own room. _Too cute. In that totally nerdish way._

* * *

><p>The two days and two visits later, I watched without expression as he puked up his lunch, not bothering to offer comfort. He was embarrassed, that much I could tell. He was often flustered around me, though I thought it was mostly his personality and japanese culture rather than anything I did. I mainly sat here and occasionally wrote words in his hand and listened to him chat to me about random things, mostly books. It was nice.<p>

He retched again, leaning over the bowl with a gurgle and a gasp. It didn't bother me. I had wanted to go into pre-med before all the university science classes started to drive me up the wall.

He put his face in his hands and shook. "I haven't managed to eat anything since I woke up," he choked. If I leaned forward, I would know the exact look on his face. Terror and shock and a creeping suspicion.

I just hugged my knees, gazing at him with soft eyes.

How was I suppose to help him if he was already beyond my reach?


	3. Chapter 3

"_This is the first day of my life / __I'm glad I didn't die before I met you._"

_First Day of My Life_ by BRIGHT EYES

* * *

><p>His expression didn't change, looking as pitying as ever. "Did you, Toki?"<p>

Dr. Masako Kamon had a beard that was clipped close to his face and carefully groomed. I had yet to see him in casual clothing, him having shown up at each session in an immaculate suit and with carefully styled hair. It made me feel underdressed in my dingy hospital gown.

"Did you try to commit suicide?" His tone was soft, as though he was attempting to coax the words out of me. Some sort of somber _confession_. I wasn't sure what he expected, however. Because I didn't - Toki did. He tapped his pen against his clipboard in a slow rhythm and for some reason it made me angry. Angrier than his stupid questions. It made me want to take the board and hit him over the head with it repeatedly. I just tightened my hands into fists on my lap, staring down at the lean fingers.

"Toki," he sighed heavily. Off came the glasses as he rubbed the bridge of his noise in mock stress. "You know that this is a safe place. And I know that you know your parents are _very_ concerned. We all just want you to get better, but unless you tell us what's wrong…" Dr. Kamon trailed off suggestively, waiting for me to speak.

I didn't.

Lately though it had gotten confusing on whether or not it was because I didn't want to talk or because I couldn't.

He began to tap on his board again, staring me down. After only a couple of seconds I looked away, focusing instead on the leg of his chair just visible below the table. Another sigh. "Have you heard of selective mutism?" He asked. I blinked at the ground without expression and he continued. "It is when a person, typically because of shyness or social anxiety, refuses to speak to certain people or in certain situations."

I wanted to scoff. I wasn't _shy_, and I didn't have any stupid anxiety issues. This circus was getting disturbingly familiar.

Perhaps he saw it on my face, because he leaned forward, attempting to get into my line of sight. "Would you like to know some of the symptoms typical with selective mutism? Avoidance of eye contact." I stiffened and, just to spite him, met his eyes with a fierce glare. Dr. Kamon just smiled at me as though I had done something to please him. "They tend to have difficulty expressing emotions and typically have a blank, expressionless mask." I looked away, drawing my knees up to my chest, uncaring if it was inappropriate. It was all coincidence. I could express myself _just fine_.

"There are a couple of ways we can start to help you with this, two of which I'm going to implement into our sessions once you are released tomorrow. One of them is referred to as desensitization." He leaned down to his bag which rested against his chair and pulled out a light blue composition book. He held it out to me, but when I refused to reach out and take it he pushed it across the table between us. "During our sessions, I want you to try responding to me by writing in this notebook. That way you won't have to actually speak to me, okay?"

I stared hard at the innocent blue book as Dr. Kamon continued. "Outside of our biweekly meetings I also want you to converse with me over email. The goal is to get you comfortable with conversing with me until hopefully you feel safe enough to use your words."

_Use my words._ He made me sound like I was a child. I spared him a glance before returning my stare to the book.

Dr. Kamon began to tap again, this time against the table. "I'm also going to be speaking to your doctor about putting you on some anti anxiety medication. Perhaps diazepam, or -"

I cut him off by way of flipping open the stupid book he gave me and reaching over to yank the pen out of his hand. He was completely useless. Diazepam, better known as valium, was a fast acting anxiety medication that was a 'take when you need it' pill. It worked well for many people and was one of the first pills doctors prescribed to anxiety sufferers, but it was better for anxiety _attacks _rather than general anxiety. Not to mention that chances of getting addicted are on the higher scale since you just pop them back like candy. I rather not get addicted to valium, thank you very much, or even risk the chance of it. Not on top of all my other shit. If I was going to be forced to take meds then I would be damned if I ended up dependent on _valium_ of all things. I scribbled a quick but all caps 'NO' on the first line and pushed the book back, slamming the pen down.

Some doctor. Besides, I didn't have social anxiety. And in any case, if he was under the impression that I was suicidal then that was a sign of depression. Then again, anxiety and depression often went hand in hand in which case he should be prescribing me an antidepressant. They tend to work for both symptoms and have low risk of addiction. I stared at him, lips twitching as I resisted a sneer. Did he even know what he was doing?

He blinked at me in surprise before calmly taking the book and peering at my single word. A raised brow was the only reaction I got before he gave me a grin. "This is a great first step, Toki!" _Ugh_. "Wonderful! This is good, good. Could you tell me if you meant 'no' to the medication or 'no' to the diazepam?" He seemed genuinely intrigued by my response.

It was convenient that the alarm on his phone went off, prompting me to rise quickly from my chair and stalk out the door, not even bothering to respond to his despondent goodbye. It was bad enough that I was going to have to meet with him twice a week, but he wanted me to talk to him outside of our sessions? Like hell.

I almost fell on my face when I tripped over a leg, broken arm swinging in its sling, whirling around with an irate expression only to stop cold at seeing the wincing Kaneki Ken sitting in one of the chairs by the door. "Ouch, Toki, you're in a hurry," he joked, scratching his cheek with a shy smile. I cocked my head to the side and gestured to the door with a thumb. "No, I was just waiting for you. How did it go?"

My expression must have been pretty telling since he gave a sad grin. "Not good, huh?" I shook my head and grabbed his hand, pulling him up from his seat and after me as we walked back towards my hospital room. The two nosey bitches were still there. They had both seemed scandalized when I first brought Kaneki over and had drawn the curtains around their beds to whisper to each other obnoxiously. Though a third, much quieter woman who had been admitted three days ago had given us a secretive smile. Considering her enlarged abdomen I could only guess what the grin had meant.

We walked in and I took us immediately to my bed, releasing Kaneki to draw the curtain before sitting down. The boy was already seated at the end, cross legged and slightly nervous. It had taken him a couple of visits to get him comfortable enough to sit on the bed with me. I took his hand again once I was settled and set about drawing characters in his palm. '_Asked about the accident.'_

The boy frowned slightly. "Write the last word again?" I obliged, dragging my finger against the soft skin of his palm. "Oh. I'm sorry," he murmured once he got it, allowing his hand to rest lightly in my own. It had taken him a little while to get use to that as well. It seemed almost second nature to hold his hand now.

'_Annoying, not sad,'_ I wrote. '_He thinks I'm suicidal. Wants me to write him emails. And take meds.'_

"Do you think it would help?"

I gave him a look and shook my head. '_I don't want to die_.' I wrote it with pressure, trying to express how much I meant it. He frowned and looked down at his lap, his free hand fiddling with his own hospital garb. I shook his hand slightly to get his attention. When he glanced at me with sad grey eyes I gave him a smile. '_Cute_,' I wrote, and shook in silent laughter as he started to turn red. '_How are you feeling?'_

He made a small noise and looked off to the side, still slightly pink as he replied, "Okay." His voice was hesitant, however. "I still can't eat. I don't know what's wrong with me…"

'_Bad organs from a bad person,'_ I transcribed, half joking and half not. Kaneki had confessed to me that Rize had attacked him but he hadn't mentioned that she was a ghoul, only saying that she had come at him with a knife. He probably thought that he had dreamt it up or something. It was easier to believe a realistic lie than a hard truth. To be honest though I was a bit disappointed he hadn't confided in me. But then I realized that if he never talked to Hide about it why on _earth_ would he ever talk to me?

His answering smile was dark and he gave a quiet noise of agreement. "Anyway, you're being released tomorrow, right? Are you excited?" Kaneki gave me an encouraging grin that begged me to allow the topic change. I did.

I shrugged. One got use to the hospital scene after living in one for three weeks. My life would be infinitely more boring without Kaneki to entertain me, and a couple weeks without him looked to be dim. For some reason he hadn't been allowed visitors so chances were that I wouldn't be able to see him until he was released. I could possibly try and sneak a peek when I came back to get my cast off in four days, but otherwise I was out of luck. All the free time would, however, give me a chance to go exploring. I wanted to see the CCG, as well as Anteiku. And, if I'm brave enough, perhaps try to visit Uta's shop.

The mask maker had been one of my favorite _Tokyo Ghoul_ characters from the moment his face appeared in the manga panel. I couldn't tell you what it was, I still don't know to this day. My love for him had only grown as the series progressed, until two sentences completely stopped my world from spinning.

I spent a good five minutes crying, another 10 in denial, and then proceeded to decide I must be a horrible person for still loving him.

I pushed the thoughts away. I would deal with Uta and his role in things when I had a plan figured out. As of now I was just winging it. I wrote in his palm again. '_Can I have your phone number? I would love to stay in touch.'_ There was a moment after I finished writing that my chest seized up in a painful way, a seemingly impossible pressure against my heart and a fluttering of my stomach. The feeling was incredibly familiar and worrying - _I didn't have anxiety. I don't have anxiety._ The sensations immediately vanished when the words on his hand made Kaneki smile again. I couldn't help but smile back.

Kaneki Ken was like the sun and I wasn't so cold anymore.

* * *

><p>Her father really was trying so hard.<p>

"How are you feeling? You okay being in the car?"

"Do you want to get some lunch? I know a nice little place just down the street from here…"

"You can change the station if you want, I know you don't like jazz."

"Your hoody was ruined from your accident… we couldn't salvage it. It was your favorite though, wasn't it? Why don't we go get you another one?"

A part of me felt guilty for staring stubbornly out the window at the passing city, hands fisting in the material of my sweater. It seemed like a sham. I wasn't the object of his affection and care so he should just _stop_. I wasn't Toki. But he didn't know that and so we were at an impasse because I would be damned before I said anything to the contrary. I just got out of one hospital, I had no desire to be placed in another.

He had shown up at the hospital as early as he was allowed to be there, filling out paperwork and happily proclaiming how nice it would be to have me back in the house. Well, to have Toki back in the house. He had thrown a bag of clothes at me containing a black, oversized cotton knit sweater with a skeleton print and light blue skinny jeans matched with converse. I won't lie - I fell in love with that sweater as soon as I saw it, and was pleased that it fit my body so well. Then again, I use to be shorter and a bit thicker than Toki. If these were a prime example of what was in Toki's closet then I would be completely fine if not pleased as punch. After changing I had been hussled out of the hospital without a chance to say goodbye to my only friend. Then we were driving away.

After about ten minutes of trying to start conversation he had turned up the music, some sort of JPop, and focused hard on the road. Every few minutes he would glance at me before looking away. He reminded me immensely of a kicked puppy. I continued to ignore him, instead huddling in the warm seat of the car and allowing myself to drift off to the rumble of the engine.

It seemed impossibly soon that my shoulder was gently being shaken, Toki's father whispering quietly in my ear. I flinched away hard out of reflex, banging my head against the glass of the window. "Ah! Careful there," he cooed, sliding out of the car to come around to my side, opening the door. "You okay?"

I nodded my head and slipped down to the earth, glancing around at the surprisingly immense garage we were parked in. I followed the man towards the front of the car to the door that supposedly led inside the house and saw that there were four other cars of varying expense parked neatly in a row. I wondered vaguely if any of them were stick shift. And if any of them would be mine.

The door did not, actually, lead to the house - it opened into open air and a sprawling yard that seemed to circle around the house, making it a little island. Four walls rose up around the large two story building, probably for protection and security. I could see a large double door in the wall to my left with a path that led through the grass and brush, probably to the front door.

I could vaguely heard the bubble of what I would assume was a fountain or a pond as I followed Toki's dad to the door of the house. There were trees and bamboo and all sorts of flowers everywhere. It was like a little slice of heaven. I could picture myself sitting out here and reading for a few hours...

The two of us walked into the house to see a large open space with nice leather sofas and wooden floors. I cocked my head to the side, impressed by how… warm and _homey_ the place felt. Large and expensive houses tended to have the opposite effect but not this time. The walls were decorated with pictures in modern frames, almost all of them pictures of Toki either alone or with her parents. The wall opposite of the door was made of sliding glass doors that opened out into the yard and a small terrace. The ceiling was high above my head and was filled with skylights.

Before I could investigate further Toki's mother came in from what was most likely the kitchen with a broad grin. She rushed to me and wrapped me tight in her arms. The woman must have not noticed or just plain ignored how tense I got, and she was still smiling when I gently untangled myself from her grasp. "Oh hon, it's so nice to have you back. The place hasn't been the same without you." She placed a peck to my forehead, a motion I had gotten use to during her daily hospital visits, and when her back was turned I wiped the kiss away.

"C'mon, c'mon, I wanna show you something!" The woman shared a conspiratory look with her husband before pulling me to the wooden stairs, tugging me up by the hand. I purposefully refused to return her grip in hopes of discouraging her. Again, she didn't seem to notice, only releasing me once we reached the landing and started down the hall. "I know you were talking about painting your room, so I thought to celebrate you coming home… wallah!"

She pushed open the door at the end of the hall to reveal what must have been Toki's room - and now my room. It was large, square in shape with the far wall mostly filled with a large window. The floors were a polished red wood though there was a seemingly random scattering of red, white, and black rugs everywhere. There was a huge bed, probably King or Queen sized with a fluffy looking white and red spotted comforter in a black frame. A matching night stand was on the right and a red ottoman was at the foot of the bed. On the wall across from the bed was a desk as well a door that most likely led to a bathroom. There was a bean bag in the corner but otherwise the room was relatively bare. I stepped inside and looked around to see a closet with traditional rice paper doors and a full length mirror hanging next to it.

The mother was shifting now. "Well?" she inquired. "Don't you like it? This is what you wanted, right?" She seemed terribly nervous about my opinion, twisting her wedding band round and round in circles on her finger.

I blinked at her before looking at the walls again. The wall the bed was against was a red color, seemingly matching the ottoman and the spots on the comforter perfectly. The rest of the walls were white. On the opposite wall next to the desk was a decal of a black tree with red petals. A few of the petals were floating away as though pushed by some invisible wind.

All in all?

Toki had some serious style. I approved.

I decided that Toki's mother deserved some form of compensation for her work, and I managed to work up a small smile for her. That alone seemed to thrill her and she lunged forward again, wrapping her arms around me so tightly I was afraid I would forget how to breathe. "I'm so happy you're home," she murmured into my shoulder.

I just stared at the petals on the tree and figured that if this was what a _smile_ could do then perhaps I should try at least a _little_. I didn't need to talk to them or pretend to be their loving daughter. But I could stop being a frigid statue whenever they became affectionate. So I carefully raised my hand to pat her back.

The woman sniffed and pulled away, wiping at her eyes. Her husband was leaning against the wall with a fond smile on his face. "Oh, look at me, I'm a mess!" she laughed. "I'll let you rest - you're probably tired or something. But don't eat any snacks because I'm making your favorite tonight for dinner! Okay? It's already in the crockpot!"

"Yum," her father drawled. "Nikujaga!" The woman playfully smacked his shoulder as they exited the room and shut the door. Nikuwhata? What on _earth_ was that?

I made a face at the door before looking around the room again. The closet seemed like the best place to start and I slid it open expectantly. Sure enough a litany of sweaters and long sleeve shirts, colorful leggings and skinny jeans. I wasn't surprised considering that it was the colder months of the year. Toki had neatly folded away her summer wear into bins on the floor where I could see tank tops and shorts.

She had a couple of different style converse and two pairs of those weird floral Doc Martens, but what really made me happy was the pair of dark brown mid calf combat boots.

_I had always wanted some._

I slid the closet shut with a grin and moved to the desk, observing the scattering of papers. She had those desk organizer things that separated her pencils from her pens and a stand for folders that held whatever school work she still had. The drawers didn't have anything too interesting, though there was a small compartment that she had fitted with a lock. I pursed my lips and decided that I would go investigating through that another time.

Next to the desk, however, was a purse. I dug through it, pulling out make up, lip gloss, bubble gum, a nail file, nail _polish_, and - yes! - her phone and wallet. I tossed everything else away and sat cross legged on one of the rugs and started with the latter, flipping it open. There wasn't a drivers license, which irritated me, but a student ID. As far as I had figured out though Toki had graduated high school a semester early so I had no idea why on earth she would still have it. I shrugged and went through the rest of her wallet, pleased to note that there were a multitude of gift cards as well as a decent handful of cash. She had a credit card (or a debit card, I couldn't tell the difference) as well. I'd have to see how much Toki had in her bank account later.

I then switched to her phone. It was a smart phone, that much I could tell, and looked somewhat like an iphone but with a few differences. It was like some sort of hybrid between apple and android. I went to turn it on only to frown when the screen showed an empty battery. Of course it would be dead - Toki hadn't exactly been here to charge it. The cord was by the nightstand and I went over to plug it in, deciding that now was a good time to see what kind of bed I would be sleeping on. The ones in the hospital weren't exactly comfortable. I rolled on top of the comforter and let loose a happy sigh. Not too firm, but not too soft. Goldilocks had found her bed.

Perhaps Toki wasn't _so_ bad…

It seemed like it was seconds later that the hybrid phone was buzzing and beeping away, having enough juice to power up and alert me all to cheerfully to the multitudes that had been sent Toki's way. I picked it up and pressed the center button, resisting the urge to frown when it opened up right away. What, did she have no protection on her phone? No code I would need to figure out? Even that fingerprint thing would be better than nothing.

That thought quickly flew out the window however when I realized how _many _messages she had. At least a hundred, a few from the same people but mostly single messages all offering words of encouragement and worry. I patiently emptied out her inbox before browsing through her apps, noting that she was apparently a large part of the social media scene. Instagram, twitter, facebook. I went through a couple of her pictures before I deleted the apps.

It always interested me how the saddest souls could seem the happiest people.

She had a couple of typical phone games, such as Candy Crush, Angry Birds, and 2048. I deleted the first two but kept the latter. I cleared out her phone of anything that didn't interest me, slowly but steadily creating a blank slate. Eventually I resorted to simply restoring the device to it's factory settings.

I erased her.

And then, when the phone was warm in my hand from use and the sun had fallen towards the horizon, I used her skin to eat with her parents, who smiled at me like I was a shining star. I put on her clothes and I slipped into her bed after clearing out her desk of any remnants of the girl who use to live here. I tried not to cry as I wondered if someone was erasing who I use to be back at home too.

I typed out a message to Kaneki - 'I miss you.'

I didn't send it.

I fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

"_She loved mysteries so much that she became one._"

John Green

* * *

><p>Using the internet on the small smart phone gave me a headache like no other but I managed to pull up a map with the cafes location. I followed the little blip of blue on the screen that I recognized as myself until I arrived at a strangely familiar building that wasn't too far from my home. The sign that hung above the door informed me that I was in the right location. It was still the morning given that I had made my escape from the house as soon as physically possible and the cafe was bustling and busy. I slid my phone into the pocket of my hoodie before stepping inside, peering about with curious eyes.<p>

It didn't feel different, something that intrigued me. Considering that the place was run by ghouls I had expected it to feel mysterious or ominous, but it had the same homey, calming feel that every other coffee shop seemed to have. The lighting was warm and the soft, polished wood of the furniture made the entire place seem impeccably clean. It was interesting to see something similar to a bar, however, with a chubby cheeked man smiling politely at customers as he took their orders.

I recognized him vaguely, if only because I knew that there were only three people besides Yoshimura who worked at Anteiku, the three being Touka, the Devil Ape guy, and then the girl who had the dog mask that reminded me of Anubis. What I could remember about the Devil Ape was that he use to kill humans at random and was in a gang or something until he was taken in by Yoshimura and reformed. The girl who wasn't Touka had the same story. Or something like that. Up until his debut as an ass kicker later in the manga, however, he gave off the appearance of a conceited, though nice and friendly, guy.

I slid into an open chair at the bar and set my purse in my lap. My knuckles were white with the strength I was gripping the straps, my broken arm tingling slightly as the tendons were abused.

It was one thing to think about going into a cafe full of ghouls who could kill you in seconds and actually _doing it_.

It took all I had not to run away when the man took notice of me and approached, an easy going grin on his face. "Good morning!" he said cheerfully. "What can I get for a lovely young lady such as yourself?" One eye closed in a wink and I felt myself relax slightly. He reminded me of the cafe itself - warm, kind. But I knew the danger that lay underneath the exterior. I knew that despite appearances he wasn't human and to him I was just a tasty snack. I was reminded of the bible story, something about a Daniel and him winding up in a lions den. Instead of being eaten, though, they all started cuddling.

I doubted that the ghouls wanted to cuddle.

I opened my mouth before closing it again, managing to untangle one hand to tap against my throat with an apologetic smile. The Devil Ape's expression turned into one of confusion before he nodded understandingly. "Can't talk, huh? That's rough." He vanished as he bent beneath the counter before popping back up with a menu which he handed to me. "Go ahead and just point out what you want to me, alright? I'll make it extra special for you."

I blinked at him before looking at the laminated sheet in my hand. They had food as well as drinks, but I wasn't feeling particularly hungry given the circumstances. While I was a bit more relaxed my stomach was still in tangled knots and that same old lump in my throat was still lodged in my esophagus. Nothing on the menu particularly caught my eye. The man was hovering and I decided to take a leap of faith that he wouldn't crush me by holding out my hand.

He stared at it for a second before looking at me in confusion. "I'm sorry?" I shook my hand again in emphasis and awkwardly tapped my palm, arm slightly crooked with the cast. After a moment he slowly reached over with his hand palm up. I took it in mine and tried my best to ignore his suspicious stare and the intimidating aura. _'Surprise me,'_ I wrote softly, carefully, and I pulled away quickly once I had finished as though his hand would bite me. And who is to say that it wouldn't have?

The suspicion faded away to fascination. "So that's how you talk to people? Oh! Say something else!" He thrust his hand out eagerly to me with a grin on his face and I couldn't help jerking back in surprise.

That was not the response I had been expecting.

I obeyed, however, and with the smallest of grins proceeded to write in his palm, enjoying the transition of expressions on his face. "That's cool," he drawled, staring between me and his palm. Then he started. "Oh! Surprise! I'll whip something up for you, just one minute!" Ape man immediately set to work grinding the beans and heating up the water, chatting to me all the while. "What's your name?" He stretched his hand out to me again and I obediently scrawled my name in his palm. "Toki, huh?" he hummed. "Cute name for a cute girl. I'm Enji Koma." Another wink was thrown my way as he poured hot water into the grounds. I observed him before smiling, putting my chin in my hand.

The fear left me.

* * *

><p>I came again the next day, this time taking a seat at a table instead of the bar. The cafe was, for the most part, abandoned at this time with only a few people sipping their drinks. I had brought Toki's laptop, freshly restored at a nearby shop so that I could go searching for some music. It was too quiet in my head. I wasn't even sure if this reality had the same bands as mine - I would probably cry if there wasn't. I needed my pop and rock and indie and electric and don't even get me started on my Kpop withdrawals.<p>

The other girl who wasn't Touka was behind the bar cleaning the cups. I kept an eye out for the girl who _was_ Touka as she scurried about taking care of the few people scattered about the cafe. She stopped to talk with a blond girl every once in a while, a person I vaguely recognized as her human friend. Well, 'friend'. I've always been convinced that there was something more going on there.

Maybe it's just my inner romantic?

I kept myself entertained by surfing for my music and downloading it onto the computer, entirely pleased that majority of my favorite bands were still around and kicking. When Touka made it to my table I shut the lid and gave her a polite smile. She returned it easily and asked me what I wanted. Enji had never told me what he had made me while we had chatted the few hours other day but it had been good whatever it was. I tapped a finger to my chin and went to type on my laptop (I sincerely doubted she would have let me write in her hand) before the Devil Ape himself plopped into the seat in front of me.

"Toki!" he said cheerfully with a wink. I couldn't help the smile that curled up my lip. It was interesting that such a violent and brutal man could joke around with me so easily. "What, can't resist me? You were only here yesterday. I should have known you would fall for me at some point," he sighed dramatically.

I shook my head in exasperation and took his hand to write in it slowly. He had a much harder time understanding what I was saying than Kaneki but to put anyone on the teenagers level wouldn't be fair. '_What was the coffee you made me the other day? I wanted another one.'_

Enji made a face but turned to Touka who had been watching with a strange expression, note pad crinkled slightly in her tight fists. "White chocolate mocha for the lady, please," he drawled.

Touka shifted her weight to one foot in what I came to recognize as aggression. "And why don't you make it?" Her eyebrow was raised challengingly.

Enji gave the girl a pout. "Aw, I'm on break! Besides, these are your tables and there's hardly anyone here." The smile came back. "Besides, I wanna chat with Toki."

When Touka gave him a glare Enji's stance seemed to change. It was interesting to watch as he straightened and looked her in the eye. I could only compare it to two dogs having a stand off. "She's a friend, Touka," he said with a deadly cheer. The urge to do something to break the awkward stare down was nearly overwhelming as I remained stuck between them.

The girl didn't relax or seem to submit to the demand. Instead she sent me a suspicious glare before turning tail to go and make my drink. I watched her go with a heavy feeling on my chest, shoulders shaking just slightly. I wrote in Enji's hand. '_She's kind of a scary one.'_

The man gave a laugh and it was as if nothing had happened. "Usually people say that about me! Don't worry about her. She's just shy." I raised a brow in response and leaned back in my chair. He was scary? Yeah, he was the ape man or whatever who killed a ton of people, but he seemed… really nonthreatening. It was almost insane how friendly and approachable he appeared to be. Enji just leaned forward. "So… Can I write on your cast today?" A smile spread across my lips and I shook my head no. "Aw, why not! I promise I won't write anything weird! Please!"

I made a show of thinking about it, looking up at the ceiling and tapping my lips, tilting my head to the side and sighing. Then I shook my head no, silent laughs shaking me as he pouted. My attention was nabbed however when the blond friend of Touka trotted up to the counter with a smile, speaking to the frowning girl before leaving the cafe. Taking his hand I wrote, '_Is the blond Touka's girlfriend? They look really cute together.'_ I didn't expect him to know but perhaps there was a clue. I could make this my side project - designation 'Get Touka To Hook Up With Her Best Friend'. Sounded very _Mission Impossible_ to me.

Enji's jaw dropped before he furrowed his brow in wonder. "I have no idea," he mused, before turning in his seat to yell, "Hey, Touka! Was that your girlfriend?"

Her response was a cup thrown at his head and I laughed.

* * *

><p>When I approached Uta's shop I walked straight past it.<p>

I wasn't ready yet.

* * *

><p>My arm smelled absolutely <em>terrible<em>. I observed the pale, exposed arm, the skin dry and flaky from being in the cast for so long. A long scab trailed along the inside of my arm from where the bone had poked through. It would probably scar. It was a little bit of a struggle to move it in certain ways due to the minor atrophy but I had expected that.

"Could you move your arm this way, Toki?" the Doctor asked, demonstrating with his own arm. I obeyed and bent it at the elbow and twisted my wrist, the slightest twinge the only unnatural feeling. His gloved hands felt cool on the sensitive skin as he pressed and prodded. This was where he would have asked me if it hurt anywhere or if I felt any strain but I hadn't answered him any of the other times he had asked. Thankfully he had learned it was pointless. The man turned to Toki's mother who sat in the chair by the bed and gave her a smile. "Well, it looks like everything is healing as it should. I suggest coming back in a couple of weeks to make sure its still healing properly." He started to pull off the gloves to throw away.

She stood and came to stand by me, putting a hand on my shoulder that I struggled not to shrug off. I had gotten better with the parents touching me but… it was still hard. "Thank you so much," Toki's mother said sincerely. "Is there anything in particular that she should in regards to her arm? Exercises, cleaning…"

He smiled. "Just some general stretching should do it. Toki's doing very well. As for cleaning I would say that she needs to soak her arm in warm water for twenty minutes and then dry gently with a soft towel twice a day for about five days. She can't scratch at her scab, otherwise it could develop an infection and damage the new skin. Otherwise there isn't much to do. She can shower normally but she will need to be gentle with her arm and use only mild soaps. It's healing but it's still a bit feeble."

Toki's mom nodded her head in understanding and turned to me. "You get all that?" I nodded my head and then reached for her hand, taking it into my own to write the word 'bathroom'. Then I hopped off the bed and into the hall while pulling my sleeve over my arm gingerly, wincing slightly as the fabric slid over the sensitive skin. I had a nerd to find.

The woman called something after me about meeting at the front desk. I waved an arm behind me absently and turned the corner, heading toward Kaneki's room. This was under the assumption that they hadn't moved him.

However he was still in the same room there when I arrived, a book in his hands, face looking a bit more depressed, drawn out. He seemed exhausted. I half hoped that he had missed me like I missed him. Butterflies flowed through my stomach and my chest ached as I nervously knocked on the wall to alert him to my presence. What if he didn't want to see me? What if he forgot about me? What if -

The boy looked up and his face brightened like the sun once he caught sight of me. My sun. "Toki!" And heaven help me if his voice didn't sound as excited as I felt. He tossed his book onto the foot of his bed and slithered out from under the sheets to greet me. My body relaxed and I entered, taking advantage of his struggle with his shoes to sneak a hug.

He predictably stiffened but I enjoyed his warmth for just a second. He was comforting and I breathed him in. I released him after a moment, unable to contain the smile that spread across my features. Kaneki had a healthy dose of crimson in his cheeks and gave a cough. "Y-you didn't have to hug me," he mumbled, and I shook with a silent laugh. I took his hand.

'_Cute,'_ I wrote. My smile grew as the flush became more evident in his cheeks. One would think that he would grow use to me saying so but Kaneki never did. Each time I said it he would give me a blush and a stutter. He didn't tear his hand away though, or scold me or push me away. He never did. Instead he mumbled something I couldn't quite decipher and pulled me towards his bed. Perhaps the distance had done him some good considering he had never taken the initiative before. I appreciated it, though - it made me feel like I wasn't the only one who wanted to see the other. I obediently sat cross legged at the foot of his bed while he crawled back in and rested back against the pillows.

"So you got your cast off?" he said after a moment of staring at me. I nodded and held out my arm for him to observe though he didn't touch it. "Does it still hurt?" This time I shook my head negative.

'_I gotta be careful with it though. It's a bit sensitive. And also seriously disgusting.'_

He nodded. "And your parents? How are things with them?"

A shrug. '_Better. I'm trying.'_ I shifted closer to him on the bed. '_I don't wanna talk about me. How are you? How is your eating? Any good book suggestions? I'm bored out of my mind without you.'_

Here Kaneki stiffed for a second but then he mimicked me with a short, emotionless shrug. "Still not able to keep anything down," he admitted. "But I did get this book I think you would like…" He continued to chat with me, showing me the new book he had convinced the nurses to get for him. I rested my face in my hands and watched him talk, smiling softly. It was so cliche and stupid but… he really was the reason I was smiling. I didn't like that fact - oh God, did I hate it. I wanted to hate him. But I couldn't.

Curse my bleeding heart but I didn't want him to die.

I should have run. Ditched this life that Toki had and take off. Go to America. Or anywhere that the plot couldn't get to me. I had no urge to get involved with Touka, or Uta, or the CCG, or ghouls in general. This was my second chance and I wanted the chance to live through it.

But I couldn't leave him here.

I took his hand in mine again and simply held it, ignoring the look he gave me, intent to just touch the smooth skin of his palm and the slightest brush of his nails against my wrist as his fingers curled. I closed my eyes.

And as it always was when I was with Kaneki Ken the visions of fire and memories of pain and death didn't descend.

"Hey, are you okay?" He leaned forward, dark eyes concerned. "Should I call a nurse?"

I shook my head and traced my words against his wrist, noting his slight shiver. '_No.'_ I paused. '_I just missed you.'_

He looked at me blankly for a second. Then he gave me such a bright smile. "I missed you too," Kaneki said.

No, I most definitely couldn't leave my sun behind.

* * *

><p>To: Toki Aibu [<span>tokiaibu7 at gmail . com<span>]

From: Masako Kamon [masako . kamon at cox . net]

Subject: Email Conversation

Dear Toki,

Hello! How are you doing? I understand that you may have a hard time starting a conversation with people so I thought that I would make this a little easier and start it myself. It is incredibly important for us to maintain contact with each other. If we do this regularly you will be one step closer to conversing with your voice.

I heard that you got your cast off. How is your arm? It must have been tiring to not be able to use your arm. I can't imagine how hard it must have been to do normal, every day things without an arm.

Our next session will be at my private office outside of the hospital and I'm eager to talk to you again. I hope you will be more receptive to conversing with me outside of such a clinical setting.

Sincerely,

Dr. Kamon

* * *

><p>To: Masako Kamon [<span>masako . kamon at cox . net<span>]

From: Toki Aibu [tokiaibu7 at gmail . com]

Subject: RE: Email Conversation

Dear Dr. Kamon,

Kindly go fuck yourself.

Sincerely,

Toki Aibu

* * *

><p>"Do you have nothing better to do than hang out here?" Touka set my cup of coffee in front of me and crossed her arms, hip cocked and tapping her foot. I pulled out an earbud and gave her a grin, leaning back in my seat as I shook my head. The girl gave a sigh that sounded half irritated and half concerned. However, the concern may have just been in my imagination. She looked around the little cafe to check on her customers before she shrugged and sat down across from me. "Seriously, you've been in here every day the last 4 days. Don't you have a life?"<p>

I smiled at Touka and shook my head again, holding out my hand for her to place hers in. After a sigh she laid it flat on the table instead. '_You and Enji are my friends,'_ I wrote. '_I like seeing you guys.'_

"We aren't friends," the ghoul scowled. "Stop saying we are." I just continued to smile at her, knowing the 16 year old relatively well given my sources. We weren't actually friends, she was right in that. But I was getting there which, considering how long it took Kaneki, made me feel pretty pleased with myself. I was close. Touka was a really hard girl to befriend. She kept everyone at a distance with cold words and a harsh gaze. When I had first met Touka had been nice, as seen in the manga, then hesitant, something _not_ seen in the manga, and upon realizing that I could handle her being a bitch proceeded to act herself around me, which I had seen in the manga.

It reminded me of my sister.

Touka opened her mouth as though to continue arguing her point but seemed to think better of it, falling silent. In the silence Yoshimura spoke up from behind the counter, calling the ghoul over to take care of a customer. I watched the girl go and gave the old man a wave and a smile, one he returned with a grin. It was hard work and required a little more patience than I really had but I was slowly integrating myself into the coffee shop scene.

It would probably be what saved my life.

I had no intentions of going through this story without them knowing that I know. When the time was right I would tell Kaneki, and similarly I would tell Touka and everyone else. A mere human with no knowledge couldn't do anything to help. But a human _with_ knowledge… I could help save lives. I could _do_ something. I wouldn't be stuck clueless while everything was changing around me.

But right now, at this moment, if they knew I knew their identities then I would be killed without hesitation. Perhaps a smidgen of regret but it would be easy for them.

I wondered if they would eat me…?

I wondered if humans had various tastes? Were we like turkeys with dark and light meat? Were certain parts more tender than others? What about the organs? I imagine that they are a bit of a rubbery texture, or that's at least how they look in the films. Did how humans look or smell have any effect on how they tasted? What about men and woman, were they different? Both have entirely different levels of hormones and testosterone and estrogen. Did that change things any?

Touka didn't manage to come back to talk - new customers began to arrive for that lunch time rush and the poor girl was swamped. I gave her a wave as I packed up my stuff and left, squeezing past a man in a business suit as he forced his way to the counter. It was as I was exiting through the door, looking down at my feet so I didn't trip over the threshold that I accidentally collided with a solid form of black. I pulled away with a stinging nose, unable to muster up the strength to push an apology through the lump in my throat. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, considering that the rock doubled in size as I looked up.

He was wearing those dorky sunglasses that he always seemed to wear, which was surprisingly my first thought. My second was that he really did have a large amount of tattoos. And then he spoke and his voice brushed by my memory like a whisper - "Sorry, are you alright?"

I ran.

* * *

><p>The next time I found my feet dragging me towards HySy ArtMask Studio was the same day that I decided to raid Toki's parents liquor cabinet.<p>

A few shots of vodka would get his voice out of my head.


End file.
